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Message-ID: <51145asstr$1115842204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} RP - Playing the Game by R.C.Mather 30/30 (mf soccer)
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Date: Wed, 11 May 2005 16:10:04 -0400
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At last, the conclusion of Book 1.  Coming soon: the complete repost of Book 
2.

Rev. Cotton Mather
Senior Pastor,
Church of the Erotic Redemption
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ReverendCottonMather/www
http://www.storiesonline.net
www.ruthiesclub.com

Would you like to be notified when I post new chapters or stories?  Sign up 
at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RCMStories/join

**If I had to do it all over,
I'd do it all over you**

<1st attachment, "PTG30.txt" begin>


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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This
story is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or
downloaded for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for
anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as
long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the
privilege of acquiring this material.

(copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

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PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather



- 30 -

TRUST BETRAYED


Tryouts for the girl's varsity and junior-varsity soccer teams were
held at the beginning of March.  Jen, Ashley and Molly ended up on
the JV team, while Kristina and Tessa both made the varsity team.
Practice was every day after school, starting about the second week
of March.  The girls were doing a lot of running laps, out on the
track when the weather cooperated, and in the gymnasium when it
didn't.  The girls did a lot of good-natured complaining about it,
but they knew the benefits of all that boring running of laps would
pay off once the season began.

Because of her practice schedule, I couldn't see or call Kristina
much during the week.  Her parents were very strict anyway, and with
so much of her free time taken up with soccer, she only had time for
homework after dinner.  No time for poor Sean.

I had a plan, though.  My sixteenth birthday was coming up the first
week of April, and so was Toby's.  We came up with the idea that we
should have a combined birthday party to celebrate.  My parents
offered to host the party, so all our friends were invited over to my
house on the first Saturday of April.  Toby and I asked Ashley and
Kristina if they could come over early in the afternoon to hang out
with us while we got the basement ready for the party, which they
did.  Toby and Ashley had become something of an item, ever since the
turnabout dance in February, when they discovered a remarkable
compatibility together that began on the dance floor, and expanded
from there.  I was really happy about it for Toby's sake, because it
meant that he was finally getting over his serious crush on Jen
Davies, who still was madly in love with Sam.  Ashley was a better
fit for him anyway, I thought, since she didn't tower over him by a
foot like Jen did.  The four of us had a great afternoon getting set
for the party, watching TV, and gossiping about our friends.

Most of our friends were at the party.  The music was loud, there
were some quieter and darker corners for the couples (though my
parents made sure they patrolled those areas frequently), drinks were
spilled, chips and dips were consumed in huge quantities, and
everybody seemed to be having a very good time.

At one point, during the height of the party, Eric came over to me.

"How's it going, Sean?  Another year older, huh?" he said.

"Yeah, the time's really flying now," I replied.  "One day you're a
fifteen year old punk, and the next thing you know you've got your
driver's license, and you've got a bunch more new friends needing
rides."

"Don't I know it.  I got my license and all of a sudden I had to
start driving my younger brother and sister around all the time.  Got
old pretty quick," he complained.  I could sympathize.  My brother
Michael was more than happy to see me get my license, since that
meant that I could drive our younger brother Stephen around now,
instead of him having to cart the both of us.  "Hey, have you heard
the rumors going around about your old girlfriend?" he asked.

I shook my head.  This oughta be good, I thought to myself.

"You know she broke up with Scotty, right?" he asked.  I hadn't
known, but then I wasn't paying a lot of attention to what Molly was
up to lately, either.  "Well, Scott's been spreading some dirt about
her.  About how she was putting out for him so easy at first, but
then shut him out after awhile.  Calling her an ice bitch, things
like that."

"You're kidding."

"Nope.  Ask Keisha.  She's really been getting the down-and-dirty
from the rumor-mills in the girls' johns at school.  Anyway, the
story that Keisha picked up is that Molly was two-timing Scotty with
Trent, then dropped them both and jumped on Mikey Evanson for a poke."

"You have got to be shitting me, Eric.  Molly is doing this?  What
the hell is wrong with her?"

Jake walked up, just in time to hear my question.  "You guys talking
about Molly 'I'll Do Anything For a Long Hard One' O'Toole?  Yeah, I
heard, too," he said.

"I don't believe it," I said, shaking my head at the news.  "What
the hell is she trying to prove?"

"I don't know, but her brother better not find out about it," said
Jake, glancing over in Josh's direction.

"On a happier note, man, it looks like you and Kristina have got
things going," said Eric.  "You're a lucky dude.  She's one of a
kind."

"Yeah, well, my track record for keeping women happy is a pretty
dismal 0-1 so far," I said.  "I'm trying, but who knows how
successful I'll be."

"You know the secret to keeping a woman happy, don't you?" asked
Eric.  Jake and I looked at each other questioningly, then both said
no.

"Just repeat after me: 'Yes, dear, Of course it was my fault,
Anything you want, my little love-muffin' and everything will be
hunky-dory," he said.

We all laughed.

"Lessons in life we could all learn from," said Jake.

As a birthday party treat, my parents agreed to let me drive Josh
and Andrea and Kristina home after the party.  I was using my mom's
old car, a '75 Buick Century with a split bench seat in the front.
Josh and Andrea got into the back, and Kristina slid over next to me
as I started up the old beast.  We were barely out of the driveway
when I heard giggling and kissing noises coming from the back.
Kristina looked at me and smiled, taking my arm and holding it as I
tooled down the street.

In almost no time at all, I was pulling into Andrea's driveway.  I
stopped the car, throwing it into park while we waited for them to
disentangle from each other and walk up to her front door.  While
Josh was kissing her and saying goodnight, I slipped my arm around
Kristina's shoulder.  She tilted her head up, and I bent down and
kissed her tenderly and softly, just the way I knew she liked to be
kissed.

The back door opened and Josh climbed back in.

"All right, you guys, that's enough," he complained good-naturedly.
"Can't you see I'm lonely back here?  It's bad enough I don't have my
girlfriend here, I have to watch you two and your disgusting public
display of affection?"

I took my arm back from around Kristina's shoulder and put the car
in reverse.  As I was looking through the back window, backing out of
the driveway, I glanced at Josh.

"It's not exactly a public place here, I don't think.  But we'll
stop anyway, because we are sensitive to your loneliness," I said.

"Thank you very much," he shot back.  "Thank you from the bottom of
my bottom."

"Josh!  That's gross!" Kristina complained, but I could see she was
smiling as she said it.

I drove through the side streets to Josh's house and dropped him
off.  I was reluctant to drive straight to Kristina's house, wanting
to spend as many minutes with her as I could, so I turned in the
opposite direction, intending to just drive around for a few minutes
with her by my side.

"Good, I don't want to go home just yet," she whispered when she saw
that I had turned in a different direction.

We drove slowly down the street.

"Stop over there," she said, pointing to a dark area in the middle
of the next block.  I pulled over to the curb, in front of a new
house under construction.  There were no lights around us as we came
to a stop under a tree, the street lights on the corner too far away
to afford much light here in the middle of the block.

It was chilly out, so I left the car running with the lights off.  I
turned to her and put my arm around her once more.  She turned into
me, slipping her arm around my back as she tilted her face up,
inviting me to kiss her.  I bent down and pressed my lips to hers in
a soft, warm and tender kiss.  I planted lots of little kisses on her
lips, the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, and her chin, receiving
lots in return.  I didn't want to rush her in any way, so I contented
myself to nibbling and kissing her softly.  Finally, her lips found
their way to mine, and I could feel her trembling as her mouth opened
just slightly and the tip of her tongue just touched my mouth.  My
lips parted, and my tongue slipped out to meet hers, tip to tip,
before retreating and breaking the kiss.  I nuzzled her throat,
feeling the heat radiating from her skin just below her ear, and
returned for another kiss.  Her lips and tongue were bolder now,
being guided in their explorations by her rising temperature, until,
after several brief darting jabs at each other, our mouths finally
opened and our lips sealed onto each other as our tongues intertwined
in our first truly hot, wet, demanding kiss.

She moaned into my mouth and twisted her body so she could hold me
tighter against her.  My hand snaked around her waist to hold her
tightly to me.  My knee was pressed against hers, our torsos twisted
around as I struggled to get even closer to her around the steering
column of the car.  She reached up and threw her arm around my neck
as we kissed, and I could feel her sweater inch up from her jeans, so
that two of my fingers were resting against the hot skin of her lower
back.

Just that small touch of her soft skin lit the afterburners in my
body, and my blood raced through me, making me feel flushed and
swollen.  My fingers slipped under her sweater, still at her waist,
and rested there, reveling in the feel of her incredibly smooth skin.
My hand warmed from the touch, my fingers tingling, as I pressed my
palm hard against her back.

She moaned again, and pulled me even harder to her.  I took that as
a good sign.  My hand on her waist, almost on its own, began to slide
up her side under the sweater, tracing the hidden musculature just
under the soft layer of skin.  My fingers felt the rough cotton and
elastic of her bra, and quite naturally followed its path under her
arm to cup her small, round covered breast under the sweater.  She
was making lots of small sounds into my mouth now, and she twisted
just slightly, giving my hand a little more room to caress her.  I
gently squeezed the soft mound, feeling her true shape for the first
time, and wondering all over again at the miracle of the female form.
My hand followed her bra back around under her arm again, intent on
finding the key to releasing the treasure.  Without seeming to move,
her body language spoke of disappointment that I had abandoned her
boob, but I had better plans in mind for both of us.  I fumbled at
her back, fingers searching for the complicated hooks and eyes I had
encountered a few times before, and found none.

I think I might have panicked as my hand scrambled around,
scratching and searching for the secret to her confining bra.  She
stopped kissing me for a moment and giggled slightly as she reached
under her sweater in front of her.  The tight strap mysteriously came
loose on her.  As she reached back up to pull me down to resume our
kissing, she whispered, "It attaches in front."

She opened her mouth against me again, her tongue intruding and
exploring the recesses of my teeth and gums, as she twisted just a
little away from me in my arms, giving my hand a hint as to where she
wanted it to go.  I obliged by slipping under the now loose bra, back
to her front, to gently grasp the bare skin of her pliant breast.  I
pressed my palm against her, feeling her nipple expand against it,
and then lightly pinched the swollen nub to stimulate it even more.
I hefted the small weight of her boob, held the whole thing in the
palm of my hand, felt the heat emanating from her.

We stayed like that for a time, kissing each other while she held
the back of my head and I held her breast like a precious work of
art, until the headlights of a car turning down the street from the
corner interrupted our reverie.  We both glanced at the clock on the
dashboard.

"I've got to get home," she said regretfully.  "Jorge is probably
already there, and my parents will be worried that I didn't come home
with him."

I reluctantly let go of her, and she reached under her sweater and
put her clothes back into place, lifting up on the seat to pull her
sweater back down.  I watched her sadly, wishing fervently we could
have continued, but I had made a promise to myself that she would
guide me.  I would only go as far as she was unhesitatingly willing
to go, and would not push her to go beyond.  I could see now, though,
that it would not be an easy promise to keep.

Two minutes later, I was walking her to her door.  The porch light
went on just as soon as we stepped to the door.  She reached up and
kissed me lightly on my cheek just before the front door opened, and
she stepped inside.

"Thank you, Sean," she said.  "Good night."

It was a long time before I finally fell asleep.  That night I
dreamed of a raven-haired beauty, dressed all in black, dancing a
samba just for me.



Just as soccer practice had started for the school teams, the
recreational teams for all ages were starting to gear up.  I got a
call from Davey and Kip's coach, Bill Pinella, asking if I would be
his assistant coach for the spring session.  To help seal the deal,
he had asked Lori Wilkinson to call me, too.  She told me that the
boys were clamoring to see me again.

"It seems to them like it's been years since they saw you," she said.

"Well, it's been since the fall sometime," I recalled.

"So, will you do it?  Will you help out Bill with his team?"

"Sure, Lori, I'll be glad to," I said.

Bill and I met a couple of times at his house to go over some drills
he had in mind for the team.  He was going to be out of town for a
couple of games, and he insisted on letting me make up my own lineups
for those games.

The first couple of practices we held were just information
gathering exercises for us, watching the boys kick the ball around,
timing them as they ran up and down the field, and asking each one
which position he liked to play best and why.  They still had plenty
of soccer left to play before they got locked into a specific
position, or even being labeled defense or offense, so we didn't take
anything they said too seriously, knowing full well how changeable
kids that age could be.

After the second practice, I recruited Jorge to come along to some
of our practices.  We had a core of three boys who were most
interested in playing keeper, so Jorge took those three aside for
about 30 minutes each time and worked with them on punting, blocking,
and moving their defensive players around the field.  The three
keepers got more and more enthusiastic about trying out their new
knowledge in a game, so we dedicated the last half of each practice
to scrimmaging, dividing the team in half and playing either a half-
field game or a full-field scrimmage.  Sometimes we drew lanes on the
field with flour, making them stay within their lanes.  Some days the
lanes had about 10 feet of space between them, sometimes we drew them
so they overlapped, but the rule always was don't step out of the
lane.  We knew that when it came to game time, they would follow the
ball anyway, but we were trying to convince them that if they played
positions, they would be able to move the ball better.  Some days it
worked, some days it didn't.

Lori came down whenever she could to watch at least the last half of
practice.  She asked if I could work with the boys again on the side,
and I was looking forward to helping them out again.  She also
mentioned that Molly was still babysitting for her occasionally, but
she had noticed that she was pretty unhappy lately, and asked if I
knew anything about it.

"Nope, I don't," I said.  "Molly and I haven't really spoken much
since around November."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sean," she said.  "I thought you two made a
really cute couple together."

"Well, at the time I thought so, too, but what can you do," I replied.

She could tell I really didn't care to talk much about it, so she
dropped the subject.



A couple of weeks after my birthday, I borrowed my mom's car and
picked up Kristina for our Saturday date.  It had been a warm and
sunny day, the first real promise of the summer to come.  We decided
to forego the movie we were going to see, and instead drove to Silver
Lake, a town close to us that had built up around its namesake body
of water.  There was a public promenade all around the lake, with
park benches and gazebos and a band shell, so we parked the car at
dusk and just started meandering around the lake, pausing and sitting
when we felt like it, walking and holding hands when we got tired of
sitting.

It took us a couple of hours to make our way all the way around the
lake, and we were kind of chilled by the time we got back to the car.
Ours was the only car left in the lot as I started it up and threw
the fan and heater on high.

"Ohhh, I'm so cold," she complained as she scooted over to nestle up
against me.  I put my arm around her and pulled her tighter to me.

"Snuggle up here, I'll warm you up," I said as I wrapped my arms
around her.  She twisted around to press more of herself up against
me, trying to take advantage of my body heat.  I unzipped my light
jacket and pulled it around her as she shivered against me, her face
tucked under my arm and her arms drawn in to her.

I felt the beginnings of heat coming from the floorboards.  "It's
warming up now," I said.  She just shook her head and burrowed deeper
into me, now snaking her arms around me, inside my jacket, to hold me
around my waist.

"You could probably safely come out now," I said as I felt my feet
begin to warm.  She shook her head again, staying right where she
was.  "Come on, you can do it," I said encouragingly.  Again she
shook her head, and pulled even tighter on me.  I grasped her
shoulders and gently pulled her out from her warm cocoon.  She lifted
her head and smiled at me, then moved up closer to me.  I bent down
and kissed her softly.  She practically purred as I kissed her, her
pleasure and contentment obvious, even to me.

I felt her lips open slightly, her signal that she wanted more.  I
let the tip of my tongue peek out and touch her warm lips, and they
parted a little more as her own tongue came out to meet mine, tips
touching and caressing, exchanging information on a cellular level.

My own internal temperature climbed, and I stopped kissing her long
enough to reach for the zipper of her coat.  She watched me solemnly
as I slowly lowered the tab and opened her coat so I could slip my
arms around her.  When I did, my hands encircling her waist, she
closed her eyes and lifted her face up to kiss me again, opening her
lips a little more and becoming more daring with her tongue in my
mouth.  She suddenly thrust her tongue as deeply as she could into
me, and the resultant flare that shot through me almost made me cry
out.  My hand found its way to the hem of her sweatshirt, and my
fingers wormed their way underneath, encountering the soft skin of
her tummy.  I could feel the depression of her belly button, but that
particular area was not my goal at the moment, as my hand slipped up
her sternum to find her small breasts.  I grasped one and squeezed,
slid my hand over to fondle the other, then moving back to the first,
almost as if comparing the roundness and firmness of her feminine
charms.  Her tongue continued thrusting into me, taking my breath
away, as I found the front clasp of her bra, having learned from my
previous session, and I managed to fumble with the clasp until the
encasing material magically parted to allow me access to her hot,
desirable flesh.

As soon as I released her swelling breasts and touched her engorged
nipples, she moaned and opened her mouth as wide as she could,
inviting my own tongue in to invade and explore.  I was so confused,
my brain so addled from the fires raging in me, that I didn't know
what to concentrate on.  I really wanted to lift her sweatshirt off
so I could pay proper homage to the treats in the palm of my hand,
but that was impossible, so I let my tongue do its exploring within
the moist confines of her mouth, while my fingers played with the
exquisite treasures of her boobs.

My cock was painfully swollen, caught in the seam of my jeans, so I
reluctantly abandoned her soft breast for a moment and took my hand
out from under her sweatshirt so I could make a minor adjustment of
my own.  Her body language spoke of disappointment that I seemed to
be done with her sensitive nipples, until she realized what I was
doing.  Of her own volition, she dropped her hand onto mine as I
adjusted the position of my steely cock.  As I twisted in the seat
and repositioned my shaft, her hand stayed on top of mine, feeling
what I had done.  I slipped my hand from beneath hers, and felt her
hesitate when her hand dropped onto my hard cock, feeling its length
and girth for the first time.  She allowed her hand to lie there,
passively holding me, creating even more blood flow into the area.  I
was afraid I might go off in my jeans if she did start to hold me,
but it was a chance I was willing to take.  Her actions made me bold
enough to reach back for her waist, but instead of gliding up her
body back to her delightful breasts, I moved my hand to the snap of
her jeans.  She was not quite ready to take that large step, however,
and she abandoned my crotch to grab my wrist, stopping me.  I placed
my hand flat on her tummy, and she returned to exploring my cock
through my pants, taking up where she had left off.  After a few
moments of letting my hand rest there, I tried rubbing her through
the layers of her clothes, at first lightly and slowly moving from
the snap of her jeans to between her parted legs, and then
progressively pressing harder on her as she allowed this intimacy.
Finally I was pushing against her covered cunt hard, and I could feel
her legs quiver as they lay open for me.  Her kisses were very hot
and wet, and our tongues were squirming and darting, licking and
tasting without reservation.  Judging that she just might be ready
for more, I took the tab of her zipper and tried to lower it without
undoing the snap on her jeans.  As I struggled to slide it down, her
hand on my cock stopped its rubbing as she paused, waiting to see
what I was going to do.   Her zipper parted, and I slipped my hand
into the opening, encountering the silky fabric of her panties.

I felt hot moisture soaking her panties as my fingers moved lower.
Her jeans were too tight for me to be able to reach the source of the
heat, but I could just detect the crinkle of her pubic hair through
the thin fabric of her panties with my fingertips.  I felt her hips
move up slightly off the seat, and her legs parted just a little, and
suddenly there was a bit more room for my fingers.  I pushed a little
harder, and my fingertips found where her hot oils were coming from
as I pushed the crotch of her panties into the top of her slit,
soaking up more of her smooth, hot liquid.  I pressed against her,
vainly seeking her clit and her opening through the fabric, trying to
wish away our clothes.  She broke our kiss, panting and gasping at
the sensations rolling through her.  Her hand was now clutching at my
rock hard cock, creating a monumental pressure within me.  I pulled
my hand out to scramble for the snap of her jeans, intending to invade
the barrier of her panties and claim the prize my fingers wanted, but
that tripped a circuit breaker in her.  She froze, and grabbed my
hand, stopping me from continuing.

"No, Sean, please.  I can't."  She was still breathing very hard,
and I knew that what she did was nearly as difficult on her as it was
on me, but I couldn't deny her.  I looked into those huge brown eyes,
looking so longingly at me, and took my hand completely out of her
pants and pulled her by the waist to me.  I lowered my face to her
and kissed her soft lips, bending to her will without reservation.
We kissed and cuddled for a time, lost in our own thoughts of wishes
and acceptance, unspoken longings and unfulfilled desires balanced by
the unreserved respect of our individual silent vows.  Our kisses
became more and more chaste, until finally they were as we had
started, soft and tender and loving.



Two weeks later, I had a very busy weekend planned.  The girls had
their first game on Friday night, and I was going to watch the
varsity team play.  There was a pizza party planned for after the
game, and Kristina and I were going to go.  On Saturday morning, she
was coming over to my house to work on a project we were doing
together for our English class.  We had the same teacher, but were in
different classes, so the assignments were the same for both classes.
Then, later in the afternoon, Davey and Kip had their first game of
the season.  I was hoping that the lane drills we had been using
would pay off during a game situation, and was anxious to see how it
worked.

The weekend started out great.  The girls played hard on Friday,
winning their game 3-0.  Tessa tallied her first shutout as a varsity
keeper, and Kristina scored the final goal, powering a shot in from
just inside the box after taking a crossing pass.

After the game, we all went to a local hangout and ordered pizzas
and sodas, talking about the game and laughing over some of the
little errors that didn't affect the outcome at all.  Most of the
team was there, along with a bunch of friends of the team, including
Jorge, Molly, Toby and Ashley.  Tessa had decided, sometime over the
course of the spring, that maybe I wasn't the Devil incarnate, and
was back to being relatively friendly to me again.  Molly still
didn't talk to me much, but we weren't enemies, either, so everybody
at the pizza place was comfortable, and happy that they got their
first win under their belts.  I ended up driving Jorge and Kristina
back to their house afterwards.  Jorge, in his usual considerate way,
quickly slipped out of the car as soon as it was stopped, giving
Kristina and I a moment together so we could share one quick kiss.
It wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to do.

On Saturday, Kristina's mother dropped her off at my house so we
could work on the project.  Mrs. Mendoza came in for a moment and
chatted with my mom in the kitchen.  I'm sure she wanted to make sure
Kristina and I hadn't just cooked up a plan to be alone, but we
really did have homework to do.  My brother Michael was home, too,
coming in and out of the house for drinks and snacks as he washed and
waxed his recent purchase, a 1977 Honda Accord.

After about an hour, my mom called us down for lunch.  As we were
eating, she said, "I hope you guys don't mind cleaning up after
lunch.  I have to go to my bridge club this afternoon."

"No, Mom, that's all right," I said.

"If you need anything, Michael is working on his car in the
driveway," she added.

"Okay, no problem.  We'll just be working here."  We were set up in
the family room, and had the stereo going.  Kristina went back in to
continue working while I cleaned up the kitchen after lunch.

When I got done in the kitchen, I walked into the family room to get
back to work.  Kristina was lying on the floor on her stomach, one
leg bent up into the air, writing in the journal we were creating.
It was a warm spring Saturday, and she was wearing  a short t-shirt
that had ridden up just a little, to leave a thin strip of skin
showing above her shorts.  She looked absolutely delicious, so
scrumptious that I just couldn't resist.  I knelt down next to her
and kissed the gap between her t-shirt and her shorts.  She squirmed
a little.

"Stop it, Sean," she said, but she really didn't sound like she
meant it, so I did it again.

"Sean!" she complained, but there was a laugh in her voice.  She
pretended to keep on writing as I scooted down and kissed the back of
her bent knee.  She squirmed again, but it wasn't to get away from
me.  This squirm had a definite hint of excitement in it, especially
when she straightened out her leg for me.  It seemed like an open
invitation to me, so I did it again, this time eliciting a humming
"Mmmmmmm" from her.

I kissed my way up the back of her thigh, all the way up to the hem
of her shorts, and worked my way back down again to the back of her
knee.  Her leg was silky smooth on my lips, and I could feel the
fires begin to stoke within me as I continued.  I worked my way
slowly back up her thigh, nibbling and kissing along one leg and
running just my fingertips, so lightly I was barely touching her, up
her other thigh.  Her legs parted slightly, an involuntary reaction
that I didn't think she even realized was happening.  She lay still,
the journal forgotten as she concentrated on the signals being
transmitted through her nervous system.

I began to caress just a little more with my fingertips, still
reveling in the silken feel of her skin on my lips and tongue and
fingers.  I kissed and caressed up and down her legs, each time a
memorable journey of discovery.  Finally, as I approached the hem of
her shorts, I grasped the material in my teeth for a moment, and then
stuck my tongue up the leg of her baggy shorts as far as I could,
pushing up the material with my face as I went, until I got to the
edge of her panties covering her tight butt, tasting the salt on her
skin from her thigh to the crease along the bottom of her ass.  I was
beginning to catch the faintest whiff of her excitement, a rush of
pheromones that entered my nasal passages and raced directly into the
core of my brain.

She was still propped up on her elbows, her head back and her eyes
closed as she concentrated on the pleasures she was experiencing.  As
I was kissing and chewing on the edge of her shorts and panties, I
traced a line from her knee, up the inside of her thigh, with just
one finger.  Her legs parted more, anticipating and unconsciously
encouraging further explorations of her most sensitive areas.  I let
that finger slide beneath her shorts and trace the line of the edge
of her panties, along the flare of her ass and to her damp crotch.  I
felt along that route, back and forth, without delving to her damp
center, building up pressure and expectation in her, wanting to make
her first experience of another's caress within her female flesh one
of pleasure and, hopefully, release.

Her legs were splayed apart now, and I used my hand to push up the
material of her shorts and her cotton underwear, exposing as much of
the soft globes of her ass as possible to my lips and tongue.  I
continued to caress her, now able to explore more of her.  Finally, I
was able to delve into the crack of her ass, encountering heat and
moisture coming from her drooling slit.  I touched her soft pussy
lips for the first time, coating my fingertips with her oily wetness,
gently exploring her folds.

I held her open with my fingers as I knelt between her legs and
reached into her center with my tongue, tasting her for the first
time.  She jerked when she first felt me lick her, but then she
moaned, accepting and enjoying the sensation.

It was a little difficult to work around her clothes, so I reached
up and grasped the elastic waist of her shorts and tried to pull them
down.  They didn't want to come off easily, at least until she
hunched up, taking her weight off, allowing me to slide them down her
hips.  I scrambled out of the way and pulled them the rest of the way
off.  Her eyes were still closed, almost as if she didn't want to see
me seeing her so naked and vulnerable as she lay there, still on her
stomach.  I grasped her slender hips and gently tried to roll her
over.  Without opening her eyes even a fraction, she allowed herself
to be rolled over onto her back.  She tucked her hands up under her
chin, arms tight to her chest, as I knelt beside her.  I caressed her
soft thigh again with one hand, touching her knee and letting my
fingers explore the inside of her leg, all the way up to the pink
flesh of her flowered pussy.  As my hand went further up, her legs
parted for me, opening the way for me to continue, until they were
wide apart.  I lay down between her legs and kissed her legs where my
fingers had been, starting once more at her knee, and moving up with
soft nibbles and kisses, until my lips met her opening.  I felt the
tickling of her sparse hair brushing up against my nose as I let just
the tip of my tongue explore her inner recesses, from her flooding
hole to her engorged clit, tasting and licking and loving her the
best I could.

Her hips started contributing to the motions, moving of their own
volition to guide my lips and tongue as I tried to lap up as much of
her deliciously tangy moisture as I could.  I reached up with one
hand, running it under her t-shirt to grasp her bra-covered breast.
She moaned even louder, and her hands scrambled to release the front
catch of her bra, lifting it up and out of the way before grabbing my
hand and pressing it hard to her swollen breast and sensitive nipple.

She was panting hard now, and there was a little nearly breathless
screech at the end of each exhalation as her hips began to bump up
against my face.  One of her hands was still holding my hand to her
boob, and the other was tangled in the hair on the back of my head as
she unconsciously pushed me harder into her as I licked and probed.
Finally, I began to trill on her swollen clitoris, using my tongue to
bat it like a boxer's speed bag, while at the same time I plunged my
middle finger deep into her vagina.  I could feel her walls pulsing
and spasming around my invading finger as she was driven over the
edge, and my taste buds were rewarded with a small flood of her hot
juices bathing my tongue.  I lapped up what I could as she came,
panting and crying out softly, her back arched in ecstasy, until,
finally, she collapsed back to the floor.  I took one last, loving
caress of her deepest folds with my tired tongue, and then scooted up
to her, putting my arm around her to hold her tight.

Her eyes were still closed, tears leaking out from under her lashes,
as I hugged her to me.  She put her arms around me, and, unseeing,
reached up to kiss me.  Her tongue poked out to lick at my lips as
she kissed me, and she encountered the taste of her own pussy for the
first time.  She was enthralled with it.  She began to lick my mouth
and cheeks, finding all evidence of her juices and lapping it up,
cleaning me from nose to chin, cheekbone to cheekbone.  When she
could find no more, she rolled over on top of me and kissed my lips
as hard as she could, forcing my mouth open so she could invade my
mouth with her tongue, trying to find the last remnants of the taste
she had come to love.

I let my hands wander down her back to grasp the cheeks of her
lovely ass, pressing her harder against my raging cock.  She nestled
down on me, pressing against my hardness with her lower body.  Her
hips flexed a little, creating delicious friction against me.  I
could feel her pussy drooling, leaving a spot of hot, oily moisture
on my shorts.  I was about to suggest we go up to my room, away from
the possibility of discovery by my brother, when the telephone rang.

"Shit," I muttered.  I scrambled up from under her, my cock still
achingly hard in my pants, and reached for the phone.

"Is Kristina there, please?"  It was her mother's voice.  Oh, great,
I thought.  A hell of a time for her to be calling, but I didn't say
anything, just handed the phone over to Kristina, who was struggling
to put her clothes back on and in order.

"Hello?"  She paused, listening.  "Si, Mama.  Si.  Adios."

She turned to me after hanging up the phone.  "My mom is coming to
pick me up.  I'm sorry, Sean."  She looked crestfallen, but I thought
she might have been a little relieved that we didn't have more time
to go even further than we did.  I, on the other hand, was not
relieved at all.  In fact, I was in some discomfort, having been left
in the lurch, in a manner of speaking.  I wondered if there was any
factual basis behind the theory of taking a cold shower.

Looking at the clock, though, I realized I might not have time for
even that cold shower.  Davey and Kip's soccer game was starting
shortly.  As soon as Kristina's mother picked her up, I would have to
borrow Michael's car and get to the game.  Frustration mounted on
frustration.  It wasn't Kristina's fault that her mother called, and
I had to be going anyway, but I still felt like I had been put
through the wringer by circumstances beyond my control.

We picked up our study materials in silence.  Kristina's shoulders
were a little hunched, and she kept on glancing at me with a worried
expression.  I knew she had detected my mood, and it was upsetting
her, but I couldn't find the right words to say to her to ease her
mind.  I just wasn't in an easing frame of mind, so I let her suffer
a little.

A car honked from the driveway.  Kristina headed for the front door,
books and papers in her arms.  I opened the door for her.  I still
couldn't think of anything meaningful to say to her.

"I'll see you later," I said lamely.

"Okay, Sean."  There was a hint of tears in her eyes that I tried to
ignore.  "Good luck at the game this afternoon.  Will you call me
later?"

"Sure, I'll call you tonight after I get back home," I said.  Maybe
by then I could come up with the proper words to tell her how much I
cared for her, words that just escaped me now.

I closed the door and sighed, disgusted with myself, and trudged
upstairs to change my clothes for the game.  I did have just enough
time to test out that cold shower theory.

It didn't work.

Michael was going out with some buddies tonight, so he let me borrow
his nice, clean car so I could get to the soccer game.  I got there
with just minutes to spare, so I ran out onto the field to give Coach
Bill a hand with warm-ups.  The referee came over to inspect the team,
and patiently explained to the young boys about how the game was to
come to a stop whenever he blew his whistle.  He also talked for just
a moment about throw-ins, hand balls, and other fairly common things
that were bound to come up in the course of a game, explaining how he
would be calling the infractions he saw.  The information was nothing
new to Bill or I, but it was good to have the boys reminded of the
rules of the game by someone in a uniform.

We took the boys over to the sidelines and talked to them briefly
before giving them their positions for the start of the game.

"How shall we play the game today, boys?" asked Coach Bill.

"Zones and lanes!" they shouted.

"Right!  Okay, remember that your lanes overlap.  That means that
you, Justin," he said, pointing to the boy who would be playing
center forward, "can move a little bit into Joey's lane on the left,
or into Davey's lane on the right."

"Oh...KAY!" shouted Justin.

"Now, Joey," he said, turning to his left forward, "can you go into
Justin's lane?"

"Yup," said Joey.

"Right.  And can you go into Davey's lane?" asked Bill.

"No way, Jose!" Joey yelled.  All the kids started laughing.

"That's right," called out Coach Bill.  The boys quieted down a
little.  "Play your lanes, and pass the ball."

Davey called out our passing chant, "One potato look, two potato
pass!"

"Exactly right!" exclaimed Bill.  "Are you ready?  Okay, team, go
out there and show them how this game is played!"

They all jumped up and down, shouting and hooting as Bill called out
their names and sent them out to the field to take their positions.
Davey was playing forward on the left, Kip was our center midfielder.
We had three boys in reserve to substitute where we needed them.  We
were playing 12-minute quarters, and I knew by the end of the game,
some of our kids would be dog-tired.  We would be able to substitute
9 of the 12 players during the game, which meant that three boys
would have to play the whole game.  We mapped out a plan so that
those three would rotate into the goalkeeper's jersey for one quarter
each, so at least they wouldn't be out running the entire time.

We were playing a newly formed team, and their coach was one of the
dads who had been "volunteered" for the job.  He was willing, but he
really didn't know the game very well.  Our team, on the other hand,
was almost entirely intact from the fall session, so they were more
experienced.  Coach Bill had let me introduce some new drills to our
practices, many of them techniques I had found to be particularly
useful when I was learning the basics of positions and ball handling,
and we felt we had a pretty talented team on our hands by this point.
Bill and I stayed on the sidelines, shouting out encouragement and
moving our players up or back on the field as we saw how the game was
developing.  We made sure we were on the opposite side of the field
from where the parents were sitting, reasoning that our instructions
could be separated by the players from the general noise and hubbub
coming from the spectators' side.

It all worked beautifully.  Our boys pretty much played their lanes,
with just a few excursions back into swarm-ball soccer, while the
opposing team's players all followed the path of the ball in a mob.
The end result, 48 minutes of game time later, was our first win of
the season, 7-1.  Davey had scored three of the goals, Justin scored
two, and Joey and Kip each had one goal.  After we were up 4-0,
around the middle of the second quarter, we even pulled one player
off the field, willing to play short for the sake of fair play.  We
stayed that way through the entire second half, and still, even
playing down one player, outscored them 3-1 during that time.

All of the moms and dads of the boys on our team were going nuts on
the other side of the field, getting louder and crazier with each
goal.  When the referee blew his whistle to end the game, they all
came rushing out onto the field as if we had won a major championship
or something.  Bill and I just watched from the sidelines as our boys
were overrun by the mob of parents washing onto the field to
congratulate them.

Somebody suggested that everybody could meet at a local pizza parlor
for a victory celebration.  Since it was late in the afternoon, and
everybody was hungry, it was agreed that we would have a team dinner.

As Bill and I were packing up our equipment, Lori Wilkinson came
over to us, Davey and Kip at her sides looking upset.

"Bill, I hate to ask you this, but I can't go to the pizza party
tonight.  I'm meeting some friends for dinner, and I have to get home
and get ready.  I've got a babysitter scheduled to be there in just a
few minutes, but the boys really want to go with the rest of the
team."  She looked at the two of us and smiled.  "Do you think I
could impose on you to drop them off at our house after the party?"

Davey and Kip's eyes lit up at hearing that.  How could we refuse?

"Of course, Lori.  I'll be glad to," he said.

"I have my brother's car here, too," I added.  "If it's okay with
you that they ride with me, I'll take them over to the party so you
don't have to drop them off."

"Oh, Sean, that would be lovely."  She turned to the boys.  "Okay,
you guys, listen up.  Sean and Coach Bill are in charge.  What they
say goes.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mom!"  "Yes, Mom!"

"And wear your seat belts.  No excuses!" she added.

"We will, Mom."  "We always do, Mom."

"All right," she said, giving each of them a hug and a kiss before
walking off toward the parking lot.  She turned and waved at us as
she crossed the field.

By the time we got all the pizzas, it was later than we had
anticipated.  Most of the boys were starting to fade, and Bill kept
looking at his watch worriedly.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"My kids are home alone.  My wife is working tonight, and I've got
to get home and take care of them," he said.

"So go," I told him.  "I know where the Wilkinson house is.  I'll
drop off Davey and Kip for you."

"Are you sure, Sean?  I mean, Lori asked me to take them, but..."

"I'm sure.  Everything will be fine.  Lori's a friend, I know she'll
understand.  Go, take care of your own kids."

Bill thanked me and took off for home.  I waited until the boys were
stuffed full of pizza and sodas, and herded them out to the parking
lot.  They scrambled into the back seat of the Accord and fastened
their seat belts.  By the time I carefully pulled out into the
street, they were nodding off.

They were fast asleep by the time I got to their house.  I pulled
into the driveway, got out of the car, and reached into the back seat
and unfastened Davey's seat belt first.  I picked up the dead weight
of the sleeping boy and hitched him up so he was kind of draped on my
shoulder, and trudged up to the front door.  I was holding him up
with both hands, so I kicked at the door, hoping that the babysitter,
if she was still there, would hear me and open the door for me.

I wasn't too surprised when Molly O'Toole opened the door.  I
remembered hearing about some sort of cheerleading competition that
was going on this weekend, and Molly standing there in her
cheerleading skirt and letter sweater reminded me of it.  She must
have come here directly from the competition, instead of going home
to change first.  When she saw me, her eyes widened, until it
registered that Davey was asleep in my arms.  She held the door open
for me so I could carry him into the house.  I climbed the stairs and
set him down on his bed, and then went back down and out to the car
to get Kip.  Molly had followed me upstairs, and she was able to wake
Davey enough to help him get into his pajamas and climb under the
covers of his bed.  As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was
back asleep.

I waited downstairs, pacing back and forth in the family room, as
Molly got Kip into bed.  I was uncomfortable being there, but I
didn't want to be so rude as to just simply leave without a word.
There was an artist's pad and colored pencils on the couch, and a
bowl of wax fruit on the coffee table.  It looked like Molly was
making good use of her time waiting for the boys to show up by
working on some art homework.  I picked up the pad and looked at it.
It wasn't bad, even for a half-finished drawing, but the perspective
of the curve of the bowl looked wrong to me.  Not that I could do any
better, I reminded myself.  In fact, I had trouble drawing a stick
figure, so I really had no right to criticize Molly's work.

I put the pad down as I heard her come down the stairs.

"Not bad," I said, indicating her drawing.

She just shrugged.  "I'm not real happy with it," she said, sitting
down on the couch and picking up the paper.  "See?  I just can't get
this bowl right."  She flipped over the pad to show me some previous
attempts at the still life.  She was right.  She was struggling with
it, but each subsequent drawing was better than the previous one.

"Don't worry about it, you'll get it," I said.  I flopped down in
the easy chair.  I was nearly as tired as the boys, I realized.  It
had been a long day.

Molly picked up a bunch of wax grapes, their finish red and dusky,
and let them roll from one hand to the other absent-mindedly.

"I could get how the grapes are round," she said, "but that bowl is
really tough."  She held up the bunch, looking at them critically.
"Most of these fruit have a curve to them.  Why is the bowl so
difficult?"

She tossed the grapes back into the bowl and picked up an artificial
banana.

"Even this," she said, looking at the yellow fruit, "has a shape I
can handle."

She glanced at me then, and held the end of the banana lightly
against her closed lips.  My tired mind registered how her pupils
dilated slightly, but the recognition didn't bubble up to the
conscious areas of my brain until, still holding the tip to her lips,
she said, "I like bananas."  Her lips parted slightly, her eyelids
drooped just a little, and the banana seemed to slide into her mouth
a fraction.

My brain may have been befuddled, but my body certainly recognized
the signals.  I felt a little light-headed as contacts closed,
synapses fired, and blood flow was suddenly redirected to my rapidly
inflating cock.

"Do you like tasty fruit, Sean?" she whispered.  "I know you do."
Her fingers were sliding slowly up and down the wax banana now as she
held it close to her mouth and played with it.  I was frozen there,
my hands nailed to the arms of the chair, my legs out in front of me,
as I stared at her uncomprehendingly.  I was just peripherally aware
that my now rock-hard cock was jumping up in my sweatpants, pulsing
with the beat of my heart.  It was big and obvious, and Molly's eyes
were naturally drawn to my crotch.

"Oh, yes, I see that you do," she whispered as she stared, eyes
shining, at my rearing stalk.  Her legs parted slightly as she sat
up, leaning in toward me just a little.  She dropped her hands down
to her lap as I watched, riveted there.  I watched and did nothing as
she slowly lifted up her skirt, sliding the hem up her thighs until
her pale blue underwear was showing.  She still held the banana with
her other hand, and once her legs were fully exposed to me, she
slowly rubbed the banana across her panties, between her legs.  When
the tip of the wax fruit touched her covered cunt, she sighed, leaned
back and slitted her eyes, watching me all the time she was turning
us both on.

"I've missed you, Sean," she whispered hypnotically.  "Have you
missed me?"  Could I detect just a trace of dampness soaking through
the crotch of her panties as she rubbed the banana back and forth?
Maybe so.  I wasn't sure.  My brain was seriously disconnected from
all that was happening.

"I've missed you a lot," she whispered.  She leaned forward and
dropped to her knees on the floor, and crawled over to me.  She put a
hand on each of my knees and pushed them up along the tops of my
thighs, letting them pause at my pelvis.  The crude monument of my
dick stood up, proud and straight, between her hands on me.  She was
looking into my face, her eyes now bright and shining and confident,
as she reached for the elastic waistband of my sweat pants.  She
grabbed the sweats and the elastic of my underwear at the same time,
and pulled them both down, exposing my raging cock to the air
momentarily, pulsing and blood red, before grasping it in her hot
hand and pumping me.

I sank even further into the chair and groaned, closing my eyes as
the sensations raced through me like a tidal wave.  It wasn't going
to take long to bring me off, considering my frustrations of earlier
in the afternoon, I thought disjointedly.  My crotch humped up into
her hand, desperately seeking the completion that I could not bring
to myself, dangerously near to that climax.  I felt something warm
and wet engulf the head of my oversensitive cock, and looked down to
see Molly with a different sort of banana, a fleshy appendage instead
of a wax substitute, in her mouth.  She was still looking up at me as
she blew me, and now her eyes looked amused.  When she saw me
watching her, she opened her mouth so I could watch her tongue lave
and drool all over my swollen cock, kicking up my temperature even
more.  She clamped down her lips on me again and sucked hard on me,
still holding my fevered gaze.  My hips rocked once, twice, three
times, trying to get more of me into her hot mouth, and then I went
off.

I came in what felt like buckets, filling her mouth with my hot
seed.  She swallowed, creating more suction, and I spasmed again,
giving her another taste of my spend, and she swallowed again, ready
for more.  She took all I had to give, working her lips and tongue
and fingers to coax as much out of me as I could give her, swallowing
each spasm and going for more.  I collapsed back even further into
the chair, drained completely, my eyeballs trying to roll back in
their sockets.  I felt her lick at me some more, until finally I
began to lose my hardness.  Still she held me in one hand, while with
the other she grabbed my arm, pulling me up and out of the chair.  I
stood on wobbly legs as she shucked my sweats off.  I lifted one leg
at a time and allowed her to pull them down and off my feet, pulling
my shoes off with them.  When I was naked from the waist down, she
coaxed me down onto the floor, never once relinquishing her hold on
my rubbery cock.  I lay down on my back, arms at my sides.  When she
had me positioned just right, she finally let go of me so she could
stand and reach under her skirt to take off her soaked panties and
toss them aside.  She pulled off her sweater, undid her bra, and
joined me on the floor, straddling me.  My half-hard cock dangled
onto my stomach, and she sat on me so that her drooling pussy was
pressing on it.  She leaned down and fed her swollen nipples to me,
and I suckled on her as she wanted.  My brain was screaming at me,
NoNoNoNoNo, even as my lips were exploring her luscious breasts.

My hands found their way to her tits, and I hefted them, feeling
their weight and substance, caressing the soft undersides.  I noticed
that I could feel a filling sensation in my crotch as blood started
flowing into my dick again.  Molly noticed, too, and reached down to
hold me in her hot little hand as I inflated and hardened.

"God, I love feeling it get big," she murmured to herself as I got
to my full length with her help.  She lifted up her hips and
positioned me against her opening, and sat down on me.  She was as
tight, hot and wet as I remembered her, and I let my hands rest on
her hips as she rode me up and down, taking her pleasure, her skirt
hiding our coupling from view.

I pressed my palms against her boobs as we fucked, feeling her
sensitive nipples slide up and down my hands with her movement.  She
leaned into my hands, pressing her breasts harder against me, making
a rougher connection on her swollen nubs.  She was panting by now,
and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead as she concentrated on
humping herself to her own completion.

I was still pretty much out of it.  My hips started hunching up as
she was powering down on me, each of us trying to bury my shaft into
her to the hilt.  I didn't even think about what we were doing when I
started spurting within her again, while at the same time her cunt
was spasming around my pulsing cock as she reached her own orgasm.
She was screeching, I was grunting, and we pushed each other to
crashing climaxes.  I felt like I was being turned inside out, I came
so hard.  It wasn't until she finally collapsed down on top of me
that it occurred to me, much too late, that we were unprotected.  I
had come inside her.  In fact, I was still buried in her, fluids
seeping out from our joining to coat both of us, our pubic hair
intertwined and damp with her oils and my seed.

That thought, more than anything, snapped me out of my funk.  I
pushed her off me and felt my spent cock slip from her warm cunt as I
rolled away from her.  I stood up and looked down at her in disgust.
She didn't shy away from me, but looked boldly back at me, lying
there on the floor, a small smile on her face as if to say, I've won
you back after all.

I turned away from her, nauseated by the smell of our coupling, sick
to my stomach at what we had done, furious at myself and at her.  I
found my clothes and put them on as quickly as I could and slipped my
shoes on my feet without tying them.  I had to get out of there.

Without a word I ran out the door and jumped into my car.  I started
it up and backed out into the street without looking, jammed the car
into gear and took off for home.  My house was dark when I got there,
but I didn't want any lights on.  I ran upstairs to my room, tears
burning in my eyes.  I stripped off all my clothes, scrubbed on my
crotch with my sweat pants to try to remove the feel of Molly, to no
avail.  I stumbled down the hall naked, to the bathroom.  I turned on
the shower and crawled in.  The water was scalding as I sat huddled
in the corner of the shower stall, shivering and miserable.  Tears
were coursing down my cheeks as I recoiled at what I had done.  To
myself, to Molly, to Kristina.  I hated myself at that moment.  I
stayed there, miserable and wet, as the water pounded down on me,
slowly getting cooler and cooler, until it was icy cold.  Only then
did I manage to reach up and shut it off, but I could not move from
the cold floor of the shower stall.  I stayed there for a long, long
time, convinced that I was the most amoral, evil, worthless person I
knew, utterly without virtue or value.

And I was absolutely devastated at what I had done to Kristina and
her trust.  I could never face her again.  I never wanted to face
anybody ever again.


I think I passed out there, amid floating images of a cinnamon-
skinned innocent, a cunning strawberry blonde vixen, a lovely dark-
haired angel with braces, and a temptress with white-blonde hair
dressed in a genie's costume circling and harrowing my tortured mind
until blessed unconsciousness claimed me.



THE END
(for now)




Author's note:

And so ends the first book of "Playing the Game".  I hope you have
enjoyed the story of Sean Porter. I plan on picking up his story in
the near future in Book 2.  In the meantime, let me know your
thoughts on Sean's life so far.  I know what I think, but what do you
think?  You can contact me at RevCottonMather@hotmail.com or on my
message board at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RCMStories/

Thanks for sticking with me this far.

RCM
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